As I am now, as a child I was a night owl. I stayed up too late every chance I got. When I did, Ray Charles sang to me at the end of the broadcast day on the local NBC affiliate.
I cannot believe that he is gone. So I refer to him in the present tense.
When Ray Charles sings "America the Beautiful" it is not an anthem, it is more than that - he sings our song. A blind man sings to us of spacious skies and amber waves of grain. And the sky opens up wider and the purple mountains rise up higher. In these words and his voice - from sea to shining sea, we are of one nation, of one people.
When Ray Charles sings "America the Beautiful", he sings our hearts and our hopes. When he sings, we are the brightest and best and most beautiful vision of ourselves.
When Ray Charles sings "America the Beautiful" I know who I am - an American and I am proud. He expresses for me what I cannot express for myself.
And now who will sing to us our vision, our goodness and strength, our decency and courage?
I cannot imagine him gone.
So in these troubled times, for this nation - sing on, Mr. Charles, sing on.
An idiosyncratic and non sequitorial examination of the contents of one head.
Monday, June 21, 2004
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
the way it's done
Pick up an instrument. Write songs. Rehearse, a lot. Play in the basement, Play for family, Play parties, Play locally. Borrow a 4-track. Make a recording.
Start booking shows. Get a list of clubs and promoters to contact. Send out the CD with photo/bio bullshit. Call people. Email people. Call again, email again, wheedle. Confirm, double check, reconfirm, call again. Get a series of shows set up.
Load everything into a van: instruments, band members, CD's, t-shirts, stickers, buttons, friends, dogs, mascots. Drive. Don't get lost. Hopefully the van is in good condition, the show has not been cancelled, the sound is good, people come to the show, they enjoy the music, someone buys a CD or a t-shirt (now there's gas money to get to the next location), someone offers a floor to sleep on and breakfast. Best case scenario.
In any event, you can sleep in the van. Load up and move on to the next show.
A band will tour and probably play 45 minutes at a particular location, spend the same amount of time loading their stuff in and out of the club, setting up and tearing down. 45 minutes of music and countless hours of travel, hustle, and hassle. Some of them develop a following, some of them are discovered, some of them hit it big and become super wealthy.
To the rest ... thank you. thank you for rocking!
Start booking shows. Get a list of clubs and promoters to contact. Send out the CD with photo/bio bullshit. Call people. Email people. Call again, email again, wheedle. Confirm, double check, reconfirm, call again. Get a series of shows set up.
Load everything into a van: instruments, band members, CD's, t-shirts, stickers, buttons, friends, dogs, mascots. Drive. Don't get lost. Hopefully the van is in good condition, the show has not been cancelled, the sound is good, people come to the show, they enjoy the music, someone buys a CD or a t-shirt (now there's gas money to get to the next location), someone offers a floor to sleep on and breakfast. Best case scenario.
In any event, you can sleep in the van. Load up and move on to the next show.
A band will tour and probably play 45 minutes at a particular location, spend the same amount of time loading their stuff in and out of the club, setting up and tearing down. 45 minutes of music and countless hours of travel, hustle, and hassle. Some of them develop a following, some of them are discovered, some of them hit it big and become super wealthy.
To the rest ... thank you. thank you for rocking!
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